Never Let You Go (11 page)

She half waited for the foal to reply, but instead, Megan heard a horn beep behind her. Anna and Jordan bounced up the road in the old truck, with Jordan at the wheel. Anna hung half out the window, waving her arms at Megan.

“We’re going to feed the sheep. Come throw hay with us!” Anna’s cheeks were bright red, and she was wearing a loose linen shirt with half the buttons undone.

“Hang on,” Megan called back. She gathered the brush and the comb and gave the foal one last scratch before slipping under the fence. She trotted over to the truck, which was chugging noisily and belching out smoke from its tailpipe. Several bales of hay were piled in the back, along with a sack of grain.

Jordan greeted her with a friendly smile. “We could use the extra hands.” His teeth looked very white in his tanned face, and he was wearing a much-washed blue shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbows, showing off his corded brown forearms. Megan caught a whiff of the same cedary soap he was wearing Monday night.

Anna leaned over, almost lying across his lap. “Come on, Meg! Jump in the back.” She pushed herself upright, putting her hands on Jordan’s thighs and letting her hair graze his face. He swallowed.

Megan looked from one to the other. “Are you sure you guys want company?”

“Definitely!” Jordan said, his voice a little overenthusiastic.

“Okay.”

Megan hoisted herself into the bed of the truck and perched on
a prickly hay bale as Jordan threw the truck into gear and bounced them down the rutted road. The pigs were rooting around in their feed trough, grunting low in their chests and half climbing on each other to reach the choicest bits as they drove past. Megan pulled the collar of her shirt up over her nose. None of the other smells on the farm bothered her so far, not even the donkey, but the pig manure was in its own special category. She was happy to have avoided feeding them so far.

The truck bumped off the gravel and onto the grassy track that circled the sheep pasture. Jordan followed the fence around to the back, passing the abandoned part of the farm, before stopping at the sheep gate.

The pastures unrolled before them, steep and hilly. The sheep grazed together at the far end of the field, but the air smelled strongly of sheep dung. It wasn’t as bad as the pig manure, though.

As she and Anna wrestled the bag of grain out of the truck and staggered with it toward the feed trough, Megan felt strong and tough in an earthy-girl kind of way. Back in Cleveland, she never had the chance to throw around fifty-pound sacks of grain. It felt awesome, actually. She’d always thought of herself as a physically wimpy kind of person, someone who needed two hands to pour a gallon of milk. Now she relished the strain in her shoulders and hands as she and Anna let the big bag thump to the ground.

Anna ripped open the top of the grain bag, and together she and Megan hoisted it, pouring the little round pellets into the trough. The sheep began trotting over, drawn by the smell of the
food. They bleated and jostled each other to get to a place. Megan had to push her way through the flock, their pillowy wool pressing up against her calves.

Jordan pulled a hay bale from the back of the truck. He looped his hands under the orange twine that bound it, and with a heave, flung it over the top of the fence. For a moment, Megan stood still, transfixed by the play of his shoulders under the thin shirt. Then she shook her head and glanced at Anna, who was also watching him.

“You guys want to relax there a little longer, or are you going to help spread this around?” Jordan called.

“We’re helping,” Megan replied. Meanwhile, Jordan flung another bale, then climbed over the fence and took what looked like a blunt metal hook from his back pocket.

“What’s that?” Megan asked.

He stuck it on top of one of the twine loops and held it vertically, then began twirling it like he was twirling spaghetti. “Hay hook. Dave showed me how to use it. You just keep twisting and—” The orange twine broke under the pressure and sprang off, releasing the bale.

Megan laughed. “Why not just cut it?”

Jordan shrugged and stuck the tool in his back pocket. “I don’t know. Maybe they don’t want us summer hands wandering around with knives.”

Megan flashed on Anna’s pearl-handled razor. That would have cut the orange strings all right. She wondered if Jordan had noticed his torn shirt. Megan started separating the flakes of
rough hay and spreading it over the grass. Anna carried an armful over to the sheep at the trough. The hay smelled dusty and green, like her gerbils’ cage used to smell. Suddenly, there was a scuffle behind her and a burst of laughter.

“Hey!” Jordan exclaimed.

“Got you!” Anna shrieked.

Megan turned around. Anna had crept up behind Jordan and stuffed a huge armful of hay down the back of his shirt. Now she was grabbing at him with new fistfuls and giggling.

“It’s going down my pants! Damn, that’s prickly.” Jordan pulled his shirt up, dumping most of the hay out, and scooped up an armful of his own, eyeing Anna and stalking toward her like someone hunting prey. “Oh, you’re going to get it now. Just wait.”

Anna hopped away, holding her arms out. “Oh, no. No way,” she stammered between laughs.

Jordan lunged for her, but Anna feinted left, then right, evading him. Megan snickered as she watched. Jordan turned suddenly, catching her standing close by. “Hah! Got you!” He snared the hem of her shirt and stuffed the hay down her collar.

Megan shrieked theatrically and tried to grab him to retaliate, but he darted away and she tumbled to the ground. Then Anna ran up and dumped another armload onto Jordan’s head.

“Hey!” He flung some at Anna. Then she tried to run away but tripped on Megan’s still-prone body. They lay there, sprawled on the bed of hay, laughing too hard to talk, while Jordan flung himself down nearby.

Their laughter turned to gasps, broken only by the occasional
giggle as Jordan propped himself on one elbow, grinning at them and chewing on a hay strand.

“Oooh.” Megan sighed. “My stomach hurts.” She combed a handful of hay from her hair with her fingers.

“Me too,” Anna said. She sat up and then pointed. “Look!”

All twenty-five sheep were standing in a ring around the three of them, their eyes bright and interested, as if they were watching a tennis match. Megan dissolved into giggles again. The sheep scattered as the three got to their feet and headed back to the truck in companionable silence, picking hay from their clothes.

Megan sat on the remaining hay bale in the back, while Anna and Jordan climbed into the cab. Anna drove away from the pasture. Megan leaned back, letting the warm metal of the truck bed soak into her back. She wondered if they were going to get any lunch today, since it was already past two. Maybe Sarah wouldn’t care if they made sandwiches to take with them to afternoon chores. She was on the verge of knocking on the back windshield to ask Anna to stop at the farmhouse, when the truck stopped with a jerk. Megan had to grab the edge of the bed to keep from being flung forward.

She looked around. They were by the old barn. Overgrown pastures sloped down and away from the abandoned buildings. At the bottom of the pastures, woods began, a thick, dark mass of trees and honeysuckle bushes.

Anna hopped out, followed by Jordan.

“What’s up?” he asked. “We’re not supposed to be back here.”

Anna’s eyes were alert. “Pretty please? I just wanted to look around a little. I’ve never really been back here.” She started off toward the barn. Jordan glanced at Megan and she shrugged.

“We can’t let her go by herself,” Megan said. “It could be dangerous back there.” They hurried after her.

The knee-high grass caught at Megan’s legs as if trying to hold her back. She tripped on something at her feet and gasped, looking down. The rusted metal rods of some piece of farm equipment lay concealed in the long grass like a forgotten skeleton. Megan broke into a half run until she caught up with Jordan and Anna at the doorway of the big barn.

“Anna, wait.” Megan tried to catch her breath. “Thomas said we weren’t supposed to be back here.”

“Thomas said,”
Anna mimicked without turning around. She peered into the darkness inside the barn. “Why don’t you walk back if you’re so worried about what ‘Thomas said’?”

Jordan put his hand on Anna’s arm. “Look, Anna, let’s just go back and—”

But Anna shook off his hand and darted ahead. After a second, her voice came echoing out. “This place is incredible, you guys.”

Megan and Jordan exchanged another look as they went inside.

Anna was standing in the center of the huge, soaring space, her neck craned up, her hands on her hips. “This place is huge,” she said as they entered. “It’s three times the size of the horse barn. Look how high that is.” She pointed up, where the ceiling was lost in shadows. Sunlight filtered through holes punched in the roof.

The old barn was a monument to the ravages of wind, rain, and snow. One half of the roof sagged dangerously. Megan took a step, and the floorboard sank noticeably and groaned. She had the distinct sensation that if she took one more step, it would give way completely.

“Anna, come on,” she pleaded. “This place isn’t safe. Seriously, the floor’s about to cave in.” A rustle came from a nearby corner, and Megan whirled around. Something with wings flapped off through a hole in the wall.

A bird. A bird
, Megan told herself.
Just a bird.
She stepped through the gloom and gently took Anna’s arm.

“Come on, let’s go.” Megan gently tugged on Anna’s arm. This situation felt very familiar. Anna about to do something seriously wrong. Herself talking Anna down. Megan flashed on the time in third grade Anna thought they should climb the school fence and go home for lunch. Anna had been straddling the top of the chain-link and Megan had been tugging on her leg, trying to get her back down, when the lunch monitor had caught them.

“Yeah, let’s go get some food,” Jordan chimed in. He sounded uneasy. The barn had a chilly, faraway feel, as if they’d stepped sideways into another world. Megan could tell Jordan was as anxious to leave as she was.

Anna freed herself and strolled over to the row of broken windows. They gaped, lined with jagged glass. The stall dividers had fallen over on one side of the barn, like a row of dominoes, and the air was sour with rot. Pieces of rusting machinery were strewn
around, and the carcass of a discarded plow hulked near the opposite doors. Cobwebs hung like dirty lace on every surface.

Anna fished something from the floor at her feet. “Oh, look,” she said. She held what looked like a claw up to the light. From where she stood, Megan could see that it was rusty and sharp.

“Anna, put that down,” Jordan said. “It’s a piece of an old tool.”

But Anna didn’t turn around, not even at Jordan’s plea. She stood by the window, turning the claw this way and that. Then, abruptly, she flung it to the floor, spun on her heel, and started walking rapidly around the perimeter of the barn, her face alight. “Don’t you guys just love this? Such a sense of the past in here. I don’t know why Uncle Thomas is so uptight about it.”

“Hey, don’t you want to go make sandwiches?” Megan asked, hoping to distract her. “I’m craving tuna fish for some reason.”

“Yeah, we’d better get the truck back,” Jordan said at the same time.

Anna stopped walking. “What the hell? Are you two ganging up on me?” Her eyes darted from Megan to Jordan and back again.

“No, no,” Megan soothed Anna. “I’m just starving. And this place is giving me the creeps.”

Anna sighed and rolled her eyes, but she allowed herself to be led from the barn, casting a backward glance over her shoulder. Megan felt her own shoulders relax as they walked back to the truck.

Before getting in, the three of them paused, standing side by side, looking down the long slope at the abandoned pastures.

“This quiet
is
nice,” Jordan said. “So much nicer than the
road noise I had to listen to all last summer on the tarring crew.” He grinned. “Plus, you girls are way nicer to look at than those ogres.” He squeezed Megan’s shoulder briefly and climbed into the truck.

Megan felt her shoulder tingling where he’d touched it. Then she realized Anna was watching her. Megan tried to smile, squashing down a little worm of guilt suddenly wiggling through her.

“Ready?” she asked Anna tentatively. Her friend turned her gaze down the hill toward the dense woods at the end of the abandoned pasture.

“Sure,” she said after a long pause.

Megan turned for the truck when she felt something hit her solidly in the lower back, knocking her off balance and almost sending her tumbling down the slope. She rocked forward, pinwheeling her arms, and then caught herself, whirling around. “Did you push me?” she demanded of Anna.

Her friend knelt on the ground, holding her knee. Anna looked up, and Megan was surprised to see tears in her eyes.

“No, bitch,” Anna said, gritting her teeth. “I just tripped on a stone and totally banged up my knee. Thanks for standing right in front of me like that.”

“I’m sorry.” Megan looked closely at the knee but couldn’t see any visible scrapes or bruises. Anna winced with pain but shook off Megan’s hand.

“Jordan will help me,” she snapped. “Jordan!”

He stuck his head out through the truck window. “What? What happened?”

“My knee’s hurt.” She sounded like a sad little kitten.

Anna limped as Jordan helped her to the truck. But the injury must have been fleeting, because by the time they got back to the farmhouse, Anna leapt out of the truck as lightly as a deer.

CHAPTER 7

It was Dave and Sarah’s morning to cook, and the kitchen was filled with the scent of frying bacon when Megan and Anna stumbled in the next morning. Megan spotted blueberry pancakes through her half-opened eyes. She collapsed at the table, and Anna sank down beside her. Aside from Linda sipping her coffee at the head, they were the first ones in. Megan tried to appear perky, resisting the urge to lay her head on the table.

“Good—” She yawned. “Good morning, everyone,” she managed.